Calling You
by recklesslove
Summary: When Dean and Sam are forced apart, perhaps forever, a series of phone conversations brings out the things they could never say facetoface.
1. Chapter 1

Calling You

Disclaimer: I do not own "Supernatural", or any of the characters portrayed on that show. The title of this story comes from a song with versions by Celine Dion, Natalie Cole, and many others. The song lyrics in italics at the top of the chapters are from "Far Away" by Nickelback.

Chapter 1

_This time_

_This place_

_Misused, mistakes_

Dean makes toast, sliding the two slices of generic white bread into the tiny dinged toaster John dug up at the pawnshop. As he watches the bread darken through the scratched glass, Dean knows full well he has no intention of eating. He admits to himself how dissatisfied he is with how his father is handling this situation.

Because that's exactly what this is-a situation. Temporary. Non-permanent. One day and John has already anointed the small motel room with toaster and fridge, microwave and freezer. Dean does not want this to feel like home or become home in any way.

The toaster dings, but Dean does not remove his breakfast façade. His feet now propped up on the old wooden coffee table, Dean realizes this is the longest he and Sam have gone without seeing each other since the night Dean pulled Sam from the wreckage of Jess's demise.

Dean blames the emptiness inside on hunger, but when he removes the toast from the toaster, it is to throw it in the trash.

………

Sam stares at the tky, but his imagination has abandoned him and he cannot see anything in the cloud but rain. Lightly adjusting his weight on the hammock, he rests his hands on his stomach, lightly tapping out a Led Zepplin melody.

Inside Missouri washes dishes from the breakfast Sam couldn't eat. Through the window she watches Sam gaze upward, her hands slipping in the warm soapy water as Sam shifts onto his side and their eyes meet. Missouri waves, a soft sweet smile on her lips, and Sam waves back as though through deep water, each movement an eon and energy he does not possess.

_Three days_, Missouri thinks as she keeps her sad gaze on Sam. _It has only been three days_.

……

Dean stretches out on the relatively comfortable single bed, the covers crumpled on the floor by a fitful failed attempt at sleeping the night before. The cell phone is unfurled in his hand before the first ring, and a wide smile spreads across Dean's face as _Sammy _flashes on the Caller ID.

"Hey Sammy." Dean grins, the smile transmitting through his voice along a wireless path to Sam under a tree so many miles away.

"Hey Dean. And it's Sam." Letting out a soft, affectionately exasperated sigh, Sam curls up in the hammock. "You answered fast."

"Yeah, well, you know…" Dean trails off.

"Yeah, I know." Shifting his weight again, Sam swings his legs to the side, the sturdy rope closing around him as he sits upright. How are you doing, Dean?"

"Fine." It is the answer Sam expected and the one he would never believe. But he knows it is all Dean can give right now. Sam can picture his brother extended on the bed, his fingers fidgeting with his jacket as he struggles to avoid finding the right thing to say, his breathing slightly hitched as he shoves the emotion back into his chest. "You ok?"

"Missouri's taking good care of me," Sam answers softly, avoiding the question in his own way. "She dragged me away from the books actually. She told me my eyes would melt straight off my face if I didn't stop searching through all those dusty books."

"Yeah, Dad did the same to me. Except without the melting eyes threat. Dean chuckles, taking comfort in Sam's echoing laugh, and adjusts the pillows behind his head. "He went to meet with some old friend of his to try to get some more books."

Over the phone, Sam suddenly hears a door opening and shutting, and a muffled greeting in his father's voice. "And now he's back," Dean concludes. "He says hi. He brought some books and he needs to talk to me, so…I guess I should go."

Sam does not comment on the wistfulness in Dean's voice, nor the way the last statement was voiced so achingly like a question on the inevitable. "I know you have to go," Sam answers softly, letting the wistfulness overtake his voice as well. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"We will, Sammy." Dean finds he cannot help the overwhelming protectiveness his words convey, the pet name combined with the assurance of contact. His father is listening, and Dean is suddenly so overwhelmed he knows he has to get off the phone before he says things he hasn't spoken in years. "Bye."

"Bye Dean." The phones click off in unison.

_It's been a while since I've tried a chapter story, so I hope you guys are liking it. Please please leave reviews-I love to hear what everyone has to say, and they inspire me to keep writing. I promise in later chapters it will be revealed what exactly happened to keep the boys apart. I also promise Dean and Sam will have many conversations on things we all wish they would talk about---if you have anything you'd like to see them talk about, leave me a note in your review and let me know. I can't promise any or all will make it in the story, but I bet some will.  And for those of you who have been leaving me such amazing reviews, telling me you're a fan of my work, and that you've read everything I've written, encouraging me to write more, thank you can't even begin to cover it. You all are amazing. _


	2. Chapter 2

Calling You

Chapter 2

**I still don't own Supernatural, or any of the characters created in that show. To everyone who left such amazing reviews, thanks so much! You guys are the best readers  By the way, this will not be slash. None of my pieces are ever slash. Sorry to disappoint anyone who was hoping it would go that way. I may be taking lyrics from romantic songs, but that is because certain parts of the song fit the story, not the romance theme of the song fits the story. Some chapters will be shorter or longer than others just depending on what the boys are talking about, or what is happening.**

"And all the roads we have to walk along are winding  
And all the lights that lead us there are blinding  
There are many things that I would  
Like to say to you but  
I don't know how"

_**-Wonderwall by Oasis**_

_Blood._

_Blood everywhere as Sam's stomach explodes, and he can't clench his hands over it because he's pinned to a wall, pinned so hard, but that's not what hurts the most as he screams "Kill me! Kill **me!**" _

Sam shoots up in bed, and it takes him a second to realize he has been awoken by the ringing of his cell phone, kept so close to his bed. Running a shaky hand through his sweat-drenched hair, he clutches for the phone like a lifeline, flipping it open to hear Dean's voice asking "Did I wake you?"

"Yes, but thanks," Sam answers, clicking on the bedside lamp and rearranging his pillows to prop himself against the worn headboard.

"Nightmare again?" Dean shifts to his left side, his eyes falling on the alarm clock reading 4 A.M. John adjusts his position in the next bed, and Dean knows he is awake even though he gives no signs. Standing up, Dean throws his jacket over his shoulders and heads outside to the parking lot, sliding into the Impala's driver seat. It is not that he doesn't trust his father…in fact, he knows there are things John should hear, things he needs to know. But Dean can tell Sam needs to talk, and Dean has discovered how so many times the solution to everything is just the two of them talking.

"You in the Impala?" Sam avoids the question, and Dean lets it slide.

"Yeah, I am. How the hell did you know?" Dean laughs softly.

"The sound of the door opening," Sam admits with a soft laughing sigh. "I know, I'm pathetic."

"Not pathetic Sammy, it's so sweet," Dean teases, but inside he finds himself deeply moved. To cover, he coughs slightly, shifting his weight to mold better into the seat. "So nightmare…talk."

"Same one." And no other words are needed, and Dean nods, and somehow Sam knows exactly how Dean is looking, the short nod, the worried eyes, and that his voice will come out calm when it is the opposite of how he is feeling.

"I wish there was something I could do." Dean is astonished to hear his inner monologue coming out of his mouth, but he cannot take the words back, and the gratefulness in Sam's voice is enough to make him glad he spoke.

"Just calling helps. You have good timing." Standing up, Sam opens a window to let the cool night air in. He stares up at the stars and offers up one wish to the first one he sees: _Please let me see Dean soon._

"Yeah, well, I always was the smart one." Dean pretends to be offended as he hears Sam snort into the phone. "Sammy, I am deeply offended."

"Do you even know what those words mean?" Rolling his eyes, Sam turns from the night sky, leaning against the wall.

"I do believe I heard my geeky college sidekick use them once." The laughter fades from Dean's voice as his heart suddenly constricts, and he leans his cheek against the cool glass in an attempt to steady himself.

"I miss you." Sam says the words so suddenly, his voice wavering, and he sounds like five-year-old Sammy so much Dean cannot breathe, like the Sammy of scary thunderstorms and bullies. Dean can't pick up his little brother anymore to wrap him in his arms with comforting words, or slide over on the bed to make room for Sammy with his baby blanket and stuffed bear, or rest his head on top of Sammy's. And they are too far away from each other now for even a hair tousling or a reassuring shoulder pat, and Dean suddenly becomes furious with himself, that he can't protect Sammy from anything right now, and as the memories of that night come flooding back Dean realizes he is clenching his fists so tightly he has little crescent-shaped cuts in his palms.

The blood brings him back to reality, but back to a reality where he can still only utter "Yeah" as a response to Sam's admission, and as they say goodnight knowing neither will sleep again that night Dean looks up at the sky and wishes on the first star he sees: _Please let me see Sammy soon._


	3. Chapter 3

Calling You Chapter 3

Disclaimer: So I still don't own Supernatural, and never will. Huge shout-out to all my amazing reviewers-you guys make me keep writing! Per everyone's requests to let them know what in the world is keeping these boys apart, here it is…the big reveal…but that's not the end of the story at all.

_They had entered the abandoned mansion close to midnight, bags laden with every weapon imaginable. Having been told that children had gone missing, that mysterious fires had been spotted, Sam, Dean, and John were hoping for nothing less than a repeat showdown with The Demon that had possessed John and put Dean in a coma for a week._

_Without realizing it, Sam stuck close to Dean's side, even moving in front of him as they drew closer to the darkened rooms beyond the main entrance hall. "Dude," Dean whispered in annoyance, but Sam shook his head, only pressing closer as they moved towards a closed door._

_Sam still remembered the endless week of hell, of clutching Dean's hand before being shoved away as the flatline sounded, of choked-back sobs in the tiny bathroom down the hall because he didn't want comatose Dean to somehow hear him crying, of praying for the first time since Jessica died, saying Please God please if you just let Dean wake up and be Dean I will do anything, I'll die in his place, just please God please. _

_He'd played it the way Dean would have wanted when he woke up, blinking back tears and offering up a simple "Hey jerk, about damn time" instead of what he really wanted to do, which was fall on Dean and hug him like he used to do when he was five, and sob, and tell Dean he loved him. And he and Dean had never talked about that, never talked about the coma or what had shone through their eyes and never been said._

_So when Sam pressed in front of Dean, Dean pressed back, doing what he always did, moving in front of Sam. Sighing, Sam nodded towards the second closed door, and Dean nodded back as he moved towards the first. Sam stepped into his room, gun drawn. Seeing nothing and hearing nothing, he walked back into the hall, entering the room Dean had taken._

_Dean had his back to him, staring out the window at the complete darkness surrounding them. "Where's Dad?" Dean inquired softly, his back still to Sam. _

_"Um, in the other room still." And then Sam froze, and time stopped, and he felt like his heart had been shattered inside his chest, because Dean didn't stand like that, never rested his weight on his left foot like that, never pushed his shoulders back that far, or tapped his index finger on his middle finger._

_So when the Demon turned, looking out at Sam through his big brother's eyes, it was only to confirm the complete destruction of Sam's heart, slowly broken by leaving for college and Jessica's death and John's departure and Mary's absence from memory, continually cracked by finding Dean so still at the bottom of those stairs as electricity crackled and the doctors said no chance, crumbled to sobbing shards by spending one never-ending week with the imprint of Dean's hospital bed on his cheek and the taste of stale coffee in his mouth. _

_A whimper escaped Sam's trembling lips, and he rested a hand on the wall to steady himself. Dean…no, not Dean, not Dean…the Demon laughed, long and cold, fingering Dean's leather jacket, twisting Dean's necklace back and forth. And Sam felt tears streaming down his cheeks before the physical pain even hit, before he was slammed into the wall with just one look from the Demon's eyes._

_Letting out a scream, Sam stared down at his stomach in horror as blood poured from the invisible open wound. His insides twisted in agony as the blood poured faster and the wound grew. And all the while, the Demon laughed Dean's laugh, smirked Dean's smirk with an evil twist all the way up to Dean's now-glowing eyes. _

_"Dean, Dean please make it stop, make it stop," Sam begged, trying to reach out for his brother, but with a sickening snap his arm was catapulted back into the wall to the sounds of his bones breaking. Barely able to keep conscious, Sam saw John suddenly appear at the door, gun drawn…pointed right at the Demon's head. At Dean's head._

_"NO!" Sam screamed, fighting against the pain, the psychic hold, the wooden walls, anything to stop his father. "No, Dad, no!" _

_"Sammy, he's killing you." John's voice was the shakiest Sam had ever heard it, and for the first time his gun hand wasn't anywhere close to steady. A tear slid slowly out of John's eye as he sighted on Dean's forehead._

_"No, kill me! Kill _**me**_! Let it kill me!" Sam was begging, pleading, still struggling to free himself. As John's finger heartbreakingly began to pull the trigger, Sam literally felt his heart breaking, and as his life-blood gushed from his body, Sam let out one last desperate scream and suddenly found himself off the wall. Using all the energy he had left, Sam tackled John, leaving the bullet to slide downwards and slam into Dean's shoulder. And as the world flew to black, Sam saw Dean's eyes become Dean again._

So the next chapter will continue what happened, from Dean's point-of-view. Please read and review.


	4. Chapter 4

Calling You Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the boys. I do love reviews, and thanks so much everyone who has kept reading and reviewing.

**Whose eyes am I behind  
I don't recognize anything that I see  
Whose skin is this design  
I don't want this to be the way that you see me**

**-"Ordinary", Train**

_When the Demon hit, Dean was alone, sweeping the room with flashlight in one hand and gun in the other. He didn't scream, not because he couldn't, but because he knew the Demon wanted Sammy in the room, and Dean was not about to let that happen. Not if he could help it. _

_But he couldn't. As always, Sam came looking for him, before Sam looked for Dad or safety, completely trusting, Sam came looking for Dean. And Dean searched the stars, the Demon forcing him to keep turned away until the right moment, and Dean searched for their mother, praying somehow she could come stop what he knew was about to happen, unable to even force the Demon to cry just one of the tears Dean was crying inside him._

_When the Demon had Dean turn, Sam was already in a fighting stance, and even though Dean knew it wouldn't do any good, he still felt such pride and an unexpected rush of temporary happiness that Sam had realized that wasn't his big brother standing there, that Sam still knew him that well._

_And as the Demon threw Dean's Sammy up against the wall with just a look from Dean's inwardly sobbing eyes, Dean screamed loud and long, but the anguish only bounced around the confines of his own body, almost bringing him metaphysically to his knees as his heart almost split in two. _

_Blood gushed from Sam's body. Dean knew in a heart-shattering instant that this was it, this was what would kill his baby brother. Sam wouldn't get to die of old age on a rocking chair on some backroads front porch with his kids running around and Dean sitting right beside him. Sam wouldn't even get the blessing of a quick death at the hand of some bad guy bullet, or a claw out of nowhere. No, Sam, his Sammy, was going to be killed torturously, while staring into the eyes of his big brother masked by his arch enemy. Sam was going to die while a possessed Dean laughed, and twisted the pain deep, and the last thing Sammy would ever get to view would be murderous hatred staring out of Dean's pupils._

_Dean tried everything he could, trying to will his body to grab a gun and blow his own brains out, to stab him right through his possessed heart. He wanted to kill himself right there more than he had ever wanted anything, because then Sam could live and Dean wouldn't have to watch him die. But the Demon only chucked patronizingly, and Dean's efforts only earned Sam more blood and pain as punishment._

_And then their father was there, pointing the gun at Dean's head and Dean was inwardly screaming "Yes! Yes!" in such relief, and Sam was screaming "No! No!" in more anguish than Dean had ever heard, even when he had awoken to Jessica flaming out on his ceiling, and then with one last shout Sam had tackled John, and the bullet meant for square between Dean's eyes merely grazed off his shoulder._

_But skin was split, and the Demon poured out of Dean's body, even as the blood continued to pour from Sam, and as Dean buckled to his knees he heard the voice swarming around the room._

_"Such sacrifice," the Demon purred, coming from every crack of the blood-soaked walls and floor. "I seem to have been going about this all wrong. All wrong. What would be the worst isn't killing you both…it's letting you both live." Dean stared around the room in confusion, clamping a hand to his bleeding shoulder, gun shaking in the physically undamaged hand._

_"You don't understand, do you Dean?" Laughing on Dean's name, the voice grew louder. "You and your Sammy get to live. But not with each other. If you get within one hundred feet of each other, Sammy will die. He'll die like he was tortured, writhing on the floor, gasping for breath, organs splitting, blood spurting, and it will be a thousand times worse than this, and once again you'll be the one who did it. A present from an old, old friend."_

_"No, no, you're wrong, you can't do that," Dean insisted desperately, but even as the words came out of his mouth, he saw a formerly still Sam twist in agony on the cold floor, his body writhing as a pain-filled gasp escaped his lips. _

_"Curses are the easy thing," the Demon laughed, his voice echoing off the walls. "I should have thought of this so long ago." With those final words, the voice grew into faintness, and the Demon was gone, leaving only a panicking Dean, a screaming Sam, and a father glancing frantically back and forth between his two sons._

_"Dean, get outside!" John ordered loudly, moving to lift Sam gently off the floor. "Don't go near the car, get as far away as you can. I'll call you once Sam's at the hospital."_

_"Dad, no…" Staring at his flailing Sammy in their father's arms, Dean unconsciously reached a hand out to grasp Sam's, but the increased nearness only brought a stronger stream of blood from between Sam's shaking lips. "Shit, shit, shit." A sob tore out of Dean's aching throat and he spun around, running from the house and into the woods as fast as he could._

_Dean tore into the woods, not even noticing the thorny branches tearing at his clothes and slicing small stinging cuts into his skin. He didn't stop until his foot hit an unseen tree root, bringing him slamming into the cold earth. Leaning his head back against a rough tree, Dean gasped for breath, feeling himself beginning to hyperventilate with sobs and forced exile._

_The cell phone rang in his hand, reminding Dean of how long he had perched sobbing in the unfamiliar dirt, forcing him to still his breathing so he could speak. "Hello?" he asked shakily._

_"Dean, Sammy's at the hospital." John's voice was soft and calm across the phone line. "Doctors say he's going to be fine. Seems that damn Demon's work on Sammy was more for show and pain than actual lasting damage."_

_"I want to see him." Dean's voice was nothing like the usual bravado he performed so well, and the aching shake in it made John wish he was already there._

_"I know, but…Dean you can't. Not until we get this figured out. And we will. Missouri's going to come get Sam and take him back to her place. You'll stay with me. I've already gotten us a hotel room. Go out to the main road and wait for me. I'll be there in ten minutes."_

_"I'll be there." Clicking shut the phone, Dean forced his legs to help him rise, leaning a trembling hand on the bark to steady himself, making his way to the road with the heaviest heart he had ever known._


	5. Chapter 5

Calling You Chapter 5

I don't own Supernatural. Thanks so much to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!

_Too long _

_Too late_

_Who was I to make you wait?_

_Just once chance, just one breath_

_Just in case there's just one left_

_-Far Away by Nickelback_

Staring at the ceiling, Dean clenches and unclenches his hands among the perfectly wrinkle-free white sheets. The standard blue motel comforter still lays under his tense body, no sleep on Dean's part having wrecked the housekeeper's careful job. The thought in Dean's head is the one he does not want, the one he cannot handle. The one thought that crept into his head as soon as Sam said "I miss you", and now it will not leave.

Dean has tried reading, tried flipping through tome after tome in a desperate attempt to find, for lack of a better word, a cure for the curse hanging so bleakly over their heads. Dean has tried to sleep, to eat, to take a walk, but nothing has worked.

And it is at this moment that his cell phone rings. Dean closes his hand so tightly around the singing scrap of metal that he draws blood, and when he brings himself to answer that ring his voice is closed as tightly as his fist. "Hi."

"Dean, what's wrong?" Sam instantly picks up on the tension in Dean's voice, and in response Sam tenses too, terrified something horrible has happened to Dean in Sam's absence.

"Nothing." Without realizing it consciously, Dean goes completely still in body and voice.

"Dean, you can tell me what's going on." Sam fights to stay calm, like Dean, but his voice wavers.

"No, no I can't Sam." The urge to scream rises up in Dean out of nowhere, and he springs off the perfectly-made bed to pace over the soft tan carpet. In that moment, as his muscles clench from repressed tension and his feet slam into the unfamiliar floor, he physically aches for something to fight, something that is clearly defined as completely evil, nothing so grey and helpless as this phone conversation and Sam's trembling voice asking questions he doesn't know he doesn't want the answer to.

"I miss you." Sam knows the truth of these words, but not where they have come from, so early in the conversation, so seemingly unbound to anything previously said. But Sam is so suddenly lost, so suddenly five years old again, and his voice begs Dean to just let him in while saying everything's alright.

Dean freezes, even his feet tensing as they reach to grip through the carpet, as if he can just disappear. The phone shakes so hard in his hand he has to grip it with two, his knuckles going past white to frighteningly translucent, and his voice when he starts breathing again, just enough to speak, is cruel and cold and growling.

"Fuck you," Dean spits into the receiver, and those two words are two punches to Sam's gut, and now it is both brothers who cannot breathe. "Fuck you and your bullshit. You don't miss me."

"Dean, what…I do…Dean…" Each word is a lifeline Sam longs to throw out, but Dean is too far away for Sam to reach and Sam is floundering too hard.

"You didn't miss me when you left for college." And that gauntlet, now out in the open, is too much for Dean to bear, and he slams the phone shut. To the ringing of the cell phone, to the flashing of "Sammy", Dean stretches back on the bed, flipping over to press the pillow over his ears to try to drown out the constant ringing.

_Six year old Sam hovered anxiously near the motel room door. On the small cracked table perched an overflowing bowl of Lucky Charms and a glass of orange juice. At the sound of a key in the lock, Sam launched himself at the opening, throwing himself into Dean's arms._

_"Dean!" Sam exclaimed happily, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist. "You're back! I made you breakfast!"_

_Laughing, Dean returned Sam's hug, ruffling his brother's hair. "Thanks Sammy, but it's already midnight."_

_The smile dropped off Sam's face in the blink of an eye, and his lower lip trembled as his eyes filled with tears. "You don't want it?"_

_"No, no, of course I do, Sammy. I was just wondering why you were still awake." Dean let a now-grinning Sam grab him by the hand and lead him over to the table. _

_"I was waiting for you to get home." Sam beamed proudly as Dean ate the cereal. "I don't like when you and Dad go out hunting."_

_"I know," Dean said softly, finishing the juice. "But I also know you need to get to bed. C'mon, I'll tuck you in."_

_Climbing into the bed, Sam slid to the left side, leaving room for Dean to climb in. Snuggling under the covers, Sam lay his head on Dean's shoulder. "Don't ever leave again, ok Dean?"_

_"I can't promise that Sammy. But I'll always come back."_

_Ten year old Sammy stood outside the school in the pouring rain, shivering violently as the downpour streamed down his back and pelted his already soaked skin. Dean came tearing around the corner, skidding to a stop right in front of Sam. "Sam, I'm sorry," Dean said earnestly, but Sam refused to turn around. "Sammy, c'mon, I'm sorry. Look, some of my friends went to grab something to eat, I went with them. I left as soon as I realized what time it was."_

_"You left me." And with those words, Sam started walking, his already-lanky frame almost disappearing in the thick sheets of rain. Dean ran after him, grabbing the strap of Sam's backpack, but was quickly shoved back. _

_"Sam, c'mon Sam stop! Dad gave me bus money for us. We don't have to walk through this damn rain." But Sam wouldn't stop, and so Dean trailed next to him in shattering silence. _

_The next day, Dean awoke to a raging cold, and Sam standing next to the bed with a bowl of chicken soup. "You could have taken the bus," Sam said softly._

_"And leave you there?" Dean responded hoarsely, wincing at the ache in his throat. "Nah. I don't leave my little brother." Dean was rewarded with a genuine Sammy smile and a hot bowl of soup._

_Balancing his duffel bag over his shoulder, Sam opened his bedroom door to find Dean waiting on the other side. "Hey," Dean said uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to another. _

_"Hey," Sam echoed, hiking the bag higher._

_"So you're really going, huh?" Gazing down at the floor, Dean pressed his back up against the cool wall._

_"Yeah, I am. Dean I have-" But Dean cut him off._

_"You're leaving me." Bringing his eyes up to meet Sam's, Dean's voice was icy cold but his eyes were so warm still, and the tear stuck in the corner of Dean's eye shot straight to Sam's heart. _

_"No, I'm not Dean," Sam insisted, his voice shaking. "I'm just going to college."_

_"Yes, you are." And Dean strode to the door, flinging it open so hard the doorknob drove a hole in the wall, a hole that would never be filled. "So I'm leaving you first."_

Sammy, Sammy, Sammy the phone flashes again and again, over and over, and finally Dean picks up the phone, clicking it open and putting it to his ear, but remaining silent.

"Dean? Dean, please please don't hang up, please don't hang up, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sam's voice is shaking so hard no one but Dean could understand him, and Dean does. And Dean also understands Sam is hyperventilating, so he does the only thing he can.

"Sam, take a deep breath," Dean says slowly and softly, forcing his voice into calmness for Sam. "Calm down."

"It's Sammy." For a second, just hearing those words shocks Dean's breath far away from steadiness, and he grabs the edge of the nightstand to center himself.

"Excuse me?" Dean manages to laugh out, but his eyes are not laughing.

"Sam is a stupid jerk who left the one person who mattered most to him. Sammy is that one person's baby brother."

"I thought you wanted to grow up," Dean manages to stumble out, and then the ragged choking breath brings Dean back, and he says with too much thinking, "Sam, you need to calm down, take deep breaths.'

The breathing doesn't slow, and so Dean finally reacts on feeling and yells "Sammy! Calm down!" into the phone. With that, Sam's breathing slows, but still not enough. So Dean breathes into the phone, steady and slow, until Sam's breathing matches his.

"I do want to be grown up, Dean." Sam presses the phone tightly against his face, as if somehow anchoring him and Dean. "But I want to be Sammy too. I know I can be both, and I know I can't just be grown up, Dean, because I did miss you at college."

"Then why didn't you call?" Dean is still trying to be cold, but that waver in Sam's voice is disarming him like it always does.

"Why didn't you?" Sam counters softly, and answers for the both of them. "Because we left each other and neither of us knew how to get back."

"You were the one who left!" Dean is suddenly back in that pain, and his voice sparks sharply into anger. "You left me!"

"You left first!" Sam screams back, and suddenly he is breaking again, as if he was never really fixed. "You made a hole in my wall and I never got to say goodbye to you! I sat at that bus stop for hours in the pouring rain, and I was crying so hard people asked me if I was going to a funeral! You left me first! You promised you'd never leave me!"

_I'll always come back._

_I don't leave my little brother._

The ice wall that Dean has so carefully constructed cracks and melts and flows away as if it was never there. "I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean chokes out, reaching a shaking hand up to his eyes in sudden surprise, finding tears wet between his fingertips.

"No Dean, I'm the one who's sorry." Sam hugs his knees to his chest and blinks back tears. "I should have gone to college closer to you, or brought you with me, or called every day. I should have found a way to be Sam and Sammy."

Dean takes in a deep, slow breath, and he can feel Sam through the phone, feel how his next words will either make or break his little brother. "Now's your chance," Dean answers, and he cannot help but grin at the joy permeating Sam's voice.

"Really?" Sam sounds so much like that six year old who would run to greet Dean at the door.

"Really…bitch." Dean starts to laugh, out of relief and joy, and Sam joins in, and neither stops until they run out of breath.

"Thanks jerk." There is companionable silence for a moment, before Dean speaks first.

"I miss you Sammy." Dean's voice warms Sam like the old blue baby blanket he used to have, the one Dean drew SAMMY on in big wobbly green crayon letters, which only made Sam love it more. "Then and now." Sam draws the sheet to his chin and grins while tasting salty tears.

"I miss you too Dean. Then and now."

TBC…..


	6. Chapter 6

I blame my father for the wasted years  
We hardly talked

I never thought I would just bend this way

Then a phone call made me realize I'm wrong

And if I don't make it known that  
I loved you all along

And I hope to God I figure out what's wrong

-4 A.M., Our Lady Peace

Calling You Chapter 6

I do not own "Supernatural". Thanks so much to all the readers and reviewers! I know where I want to take this, so the next chapter should be the last.

"Go outside," Sam says softly. He stretches his long limbs out in the grass, laying on his back as he listens over the phone, hearing Dean open the door and step out into the sunshine.

"Ok Sammy, I'm outside." Basking in the warm sun on his haggard face, Dean perches on the cement steps of the motel.

"What do you see?" And Dean knows the answer Sam is looking for, has known since Sammy could speak and they started finding shapes in the sky together.

"Clouds," Dean answers, and he knows his grin matches Sam's.

"Me too. We see the same thing." Sam finds himself blinking back tears, running the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt over his eyes.

"I don't know, Sammy. I see a hot naked girl in that cloud." Dean grins as he hears Sam's laughter echo over the phone.

"You've been saying that since you were what, ten?" Sam answers with a smirk, resting a hand on his stomach.

"And you probably see a fluffy bunny or a math equation, right Sammy?" Dean banters back.

"Do you think there's a Heaven?" Sam suddenly asks softly, his hands reaching nervously for the cushioning grass.

"What makes you ask?" Dean immediately dodges the question, his hand nervously clenching around the smooth cold cement.

"You almost died, Dean." Sam's voice drops to an almost-silent whisper, and Dean has to strain to pick out the words he is terrified to hear.

"But I didn't." In Dean's head the words are anything but matter of fact, and the words come out that way.

"But you almost did," Sam repeats insistently, and as his Sammy's voice cracks, Dean knows he can't avoid the topic anymore.

"I remember." Climbing off the steps, Dean seeks a comforting patch of grass, his hands kneading into the soft dirt. "I couldn't move or talk, but I could hear everything around me. I knew you were there. You wouldn't shut up."

Sam laughs, rubbing a hand across his tear-filled eyes, leaving a streak of dirt across his boyish face. "I was counting on you to waking up just to shut me up."

"Yeah, well, I was trying." Dean's laugh dies off as he lies back in the grass, his hand coming up with tiny strands of grass. "You said so many things, Sammy."

"That I wasn't going to let you die." Sam's voice is wavering, but strong. "That you couldn't leave me and I was never leaving you."

"Thanks for not letting me die." Dean's voice croaks out past his choked-up throat, and he does not trust himself to say anymore at that moment.

"You living saved both our lives." Sam's words, mixed with overflowing sobs, tears the sobs out of Dean's heart.

"Sammy, you've gotta stop doing this to me." Dean suddenly starts to laugh, and Sam joins in. "You're ruining my macho tough guy image. The E-Z Vacation Motel owner's gonna think I'm a sap."

"I'm never going to get you to open up again," Sam jokes back, knowing Dean needs to keep the mood light. "From now on, you're only going to grunt and eat red meat and drink beer all day."

"That's not true, Sammy." Dean's voice is so serious it takes the words right out of Sam's mouth. Dean lets his meaning sink in, then the laughter returns to his voice. "I'll catcall women too."

"Of course, how could I forget?" Hearing a knock on the window, Sam sits up to see Missouri smiling out at him, gesturing to the woman standing next to her. "Hey Dean, I've got to go. Missouri called in a friend of hers who specializes in curse-breaking, and she needs to talk to me."

"We're gonna break this curse," Dean says reassuringly, standing up to brush the dirt off his jeans. "I'll see you soon."

"Yeah you will." Rising, Sam stretches out his long limbs. About to head inside, Sam suddenly stops on the path as Dean's voice comes once more through the phone.

"Sammy, there is a Heaven. I have to believe that because I can't believe someday I'll never see you again." Dean cannot keep his voice light, he isn't even trying anymore, and Sam seizes this opening to say what he has been wanting to say again for years.

"I love you, Dean." The words are out, and Sam wouldn't take them back, but he holds his breath still, wondering if he has pushed too far.

"I love you too, Sammy." There is no waiting, no hesitation, and Sam leans his head back against Missouri's front door, knowing both women can see the joyful grin spread across his face. Hell, astronauts on the moon could see it at this point, and somehow he knows Dean's grin is matching.


	7. Chapter 7

So keep breathing

Cause I'm not leaving you anymore

-Far Away, Nickelback

You who are my home.

-Orange Sky

Calling You Chapter 7

Dean wakes from restless slumber to the sound of the phone ringing, flashing "John". Grabbing the phone, Dean sits bolt upright. "Dad? Where are you? When did you leave?"

"I'm at Missouri's. I didn't want to wake you up on false hopes, but…come over here, Dean. Come and see your brother."

"What?" Dean flies out of bed, pulling on his shirt and pants haphazardly, hopping around with the phone pressing tightly against his ear. "Dad, do you mean it?"

"Missouri's friend broke the curse, Dean." And Dean does not need to hear any more. He shoves the phone in his pocket and slams the gas pedal to the floor.

Throwing the door open, Dean runs into Missouri's house, yelling "Sammy! Where the hell are you, bitch?"

And then he hears it, the agonized pain-filled screaming of his Sammy. Sprinting toward the sound, Dean stops in the hallway, frozen in horror at the sight of Sam thrashing on the ground, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" John yells, running over.

"You called me!" Dean yells back frantically, as John shoves him towards the door. "You said the curse was broken!"

"No I didn't. Dean, I never did." Shaking the doorknob, John leans heavily against the wood, choking back a sob. "The demon did. We can't get you out. And Sammy…"

"He's dying." Dean presses his face into his hands, then suddenly whips around and throws his body against the door, over and over, until John drags him off.

"I know Dean, I know." John reaches over and grips Dean's shoulder, and suddenly a choked voice comes from behind them.

"Dean…" And there is Sam, dragging his pain-ravished body across the floor to Dean, who drops to his knees, sobs flowing freely.

"Oh god, Sammy…" Reaching a hand out, Dean quickly pulls it back, afraid to do more damage.

"At least…said all we need to…" Sam gasps out as his body contorts in on itself.

"No Sammy, no, there's still so much to say," Dean cries out, his body shaking as sobs wrack his body.

"Love you…" Sam goes suddenly, awfully, still, and Dean collapses in on himself, unable to breathe. And suddenly the room is bright, shining white, and Dean is unable to raise his head, but he hears his mother's voice in his ear.

"The best thing I ever did was give you and Sammy each other," the sweet voice whispers. "No demon is taking that away." Dean feels a soft kiss on his cheek, a whispered "I love you", and as the whiteness fades away Dean hears the best sound he has ever heard.

"Dean!" Sam's voice is strong and joyful, and Dean dares to raise his head. And there is his Sammy, alive and well and grinning through his tears. Both brothers reach for each other simultaneously, wrapping their arms around each other, Sam burying his face in his brother's so-familiar shoulder.

"God Sammy, its so good to see you." Dean is grinning so hard and without having to look he knows Sam is grinning just the same.

"You too, Dean. I missed you so much." The brothers only then break the embrace, but still press shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, unwilling to break the connection.

"Your hair's gotten even longer," Dean laughs, ruffling Sam's hair.

"Yours too," Sam smirks, and Dean shoots him a look, that Dean look, and Sam laughs joyfully. Neither notices John and Missouri have slipped from the room with smiles, leaving Sam and Dean alone.

Sam drops his head onto Dean's shoulder, and Dean drops his head onto Sam's, and they sit in companionable silence because they can now. "Love you Dean," Sam whispers, as he finally drifts off into a true deep safe sleep.

"Love you too Sammy," Dean answers in kind, as sleep is finally allowed to claim both boys into peace.

They awake the next morning to the smell of pancakes, in the same positions in which they slept, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Standing up slowly, Dean offers a hand to Sam with a grin, and then pulls his baby brother into a tight hug.

"It's good to have you back, Sammy," Dean says, his voice already wavering with happy tears, but he quickly smirks and punches Sam in the shoulder. "Race you to the pancakes bitch."

When it is finally time to leave, Dean slips into the driver's seat of the Impala. As Sam climbs in and settles deep into the passenger seat, he lets out a sigh of contentment. "It's good to be home," Sam says softly, and Dean shoots him a grin before turning the key in the ignition.

"Wasn't home without you, Sammy."

Author's Note: Thanks so much to everyone who read this story! I want to let you all know that I will be studying abroad for the next six months -

and won't be posting during that time. I also don't think that I will be posting

much when I get back, as life has gotten very busy. But - I wanted to make sure I finished this story for you all and to make sure to thank all of you for being so

supportive of my writing.


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